Murder and Mayhem

by Hamilton, B L

  Danny noticed a bewildered look on Nicola’s face. He reached out and touched her hand. “Are you all right?” he asked

  “Fine, I’m fine. For a brief moment I had the strangest feeling like something ominous was about to happen.” Nicola picked up her fork and began eating.

  As the efficient staff bustled about clearing the empty dishes away and wiped the crumbs from the white linen tablecloth, Danny suggested another bottle of wine but Nicola, not knowing the state the road would be in after the storm, decided to be cautious and declined.

  The storm had moved on and the hour grew late. Nicola was behind the wheel of the BMW concerned Danny would have a problem maneuvering the nightmare that Marion Avenue often became after a storm when trees came down bringing power lines with them.

  *****

  Ross wandered into the guestroom and closed the door behind him.

  “Hope I didn’t keep you up,” he said softly.

  I looked up from the screen, and smiled.

  “No. I was just working on my story so I’d have something to read to Rosie tomorrow.”

  He sat on the bed and removed his boots. “How’s your night been?”

  “Fine.”

  “Kids all in bed?”

  “Kids all in bed.”

  He nodded and got up. “Give me a minute to have a shower then you can read me what you’ve written.”

  “Or not?”

  He laughed. This man could read my mind. “Or not…”

  *****

  As they turned onto Marion Avenue, homes all across the hill were cloaked in darkness. Except for the occasional glow of candlelight through a window, the only light to be seen was the car’s headlights slowly winding through trees as they drove down the pitch black road where water ran in courses through washed-down debris and swept over the side of the embankment in miniature waterfalls.

  As they rounded a bend, Nicola slowed down when she noticed a large redwood tree on the road blocking their way. Live power and cable lines twisted around branches and snaked across the narrow roadway. She deftly backed the car onto a platform, turned around and headed back up the hill. When she stopped at the intersection, Danny noticed the 2am Club was in full swing with people spilling onto the sidewalk as the steady beat from loud music, pulsated within. He looked along the street and saw that lights were on in other establishments.

  “How come they have power here, but not on the hill?”

  “Because they’re on a different grid. Mill Valley is made up of different power grids. Even along Marion Avenue there are several different ones. You could have power while your neighbor does not. It’s just the luck of the draw,” she explained as she turned left onto Miller and headed towards the village.

  “I’ll go back through the township and come up from Cascade. Hopefully the road will be clear down there,” she said mentally crossing her fingers.

  “And, if it’s not?”

  She shrugged, unconcerned. “Then we’ll just park the car somewhere and walk up. This always happens when there’s a severe storm. Marion Avenue has so many trees there’s always one or two that come down, and quite often they bring power and cable lines down with them. Tomorrow it will all be cleared with the power back on, and cable trucks will be lined up one after the other at the bottom of the hill, anxious to get their paid customers up and running before they decide to switch to another supplier,” she said cheerily.

  Nicola drove cautiously down Throckmorton Avenue and turned onto Cascade, at the base of the hill where lights from candles twinkled in windows, like fairyland. Nicola braked suddenly as a deer scampered across the road, its startled eyes caught in the blaze of the car’s headlights.

  After deftly maneuvering around fallen branches and debris scattered all over the road, Nicola pulled into the driveway and cut the engine.

  “There you are,” she said, “home safe and sound. Didn’t I tell you there was nothing to worry about?”

  All the houses along the avenue were in darkness except for the glow of candles and torches, so it was no surprise when Nicola found that she too had no power.

  “Wait here while I go get some candles,” she said and hurried down the dark hallway.

  It wasn’t long before Danny saw the flickering light of a candle coming towards him with Nicola’s face illuminated in that out of worldly look you often see in horror movies. He followed behind as she led him to the room at the back of the house and placed the candle on the kitchen bench.

  When they had lit more candles and placed them around the room, the walls and furniture came alive with dancing images that flickered with the movement of air around them.

  As they stood by the window and watched lightning illuminate the garden with white light, Danny put his arm around Nicola. She leaned against him and rested her head on his shoulder. “Don’t you think this is romantic?” Nicola asked.

  “Yes, I do. Come with me,” Danny whispered and took hold of her hand.

  They placed candles on the window ledge in the bathroom and watched the flames twist and turn like exotic dancers. In the soft glow, Danny slowly undressed her, gently caressing her body as he removed each garment. When she stood naked in front of him, Nicola reached up and tugged the T-shirt over his head then she knelt on the floor and slowly undid the button on his jeans, pulled the zip down and worked his jeans over his hips. As she slipped them over his feet he lifted first one leg, then the other. When she removed his Calvin Klein underpants, his penis sprang free. She leaned forward and kissed the tip lightly, cupping his testicles in her hand.

  Danny ran his hands through her hair, across her shoulders and down her spine. The sensation of his touch and the nearness of his fully erect penis sent chills through her body. As Danny raised her up his eyes drank in every curve and contour in the shadowy light, made more exotic by the dancing flame. He turned on the shower and guided her under the water jet. When they soaped each other up, Danny lifted her up and lowered her slowly onto his shaft–impaling her with his weapon.

  *****

  “Romantic, erotic and sensual. It looks like you’ve got all the necessary ingredients–covered all the bases,” Rosie said the next morning as she fanned her face with a magazine she’d brought into the garden to read–but somehow never got around to. “Hot flush,” she offered by way of an explanation.

  “From the story or deprived HRT?”

  When Rosie was diagnosed with breast cancer, her doctor advised her to cease HRT medication, because the tumors were estrogen driven. I knew the withdrawal of HRT was taking its toll on her body, adding to her discomfort.

  Even though a light breeze whispered through the trees, her face was flushed. “Probably a combination of both,” she said, smiling.

  I pointed to a shaded area nestled amongst the redwoods. “Do you want me to move the lounge over there?”

  “Nah! This is fine. The sun isn’t hot−just pleasant. It’ll pass in a minute. Beside, we need all the Vitamin D we can get. You know, old ladies, brittle bones.”

  “Speak for yourself! Would you like me to get you a cold drink?”

  “Nah. It’ll just make me want to go to the bathroom again and I’ve only just got myself settled.” Suddenly she stopped fanning and grinned. “There you go, what did I tell you? Hot flush! Read on, McDuff. I’m all ears... and no wisecrack remarks from you.”

  *****

  Lightning splintered the sky in silvery flashes while thunder shook the windows. They lay wrapped in each other’s arm and listened to the wind howl through the trees. It was a night of demons, and they clung to each other, not in fear of the storm, but in fear of parting.

  A loud crack resounded across the valley like the sound of a giant whip, then the screech of large limbs snapping was followed by a loud thud, as a giant redwood struck by lightning was brought down by the fury of the wind. The candles on the bedside table flickered and jumped sending shadowy figures dancing around the room.

  * * *

  Danny woke wit
h a feeling of unease. He sat on the edge of the bed, rubbed his face with his hands and ran his fingers through his hair. A small amount of light filtered in through the window as a car traced its way down the winding road and allowed him to safely navigate his way to the bathroom. Without bothering to check if the black-out was over, he relied on light from the candle that still burned on the window ledge as he leaned over the toilet and urinated, his free hand resting on the wall for support. He washed his hands and laid his forehead against the mirror, feeling the coolness of the glass against the heat of his face. He turned on the tap and splashed water on his face then wandered down the hallway to the kitchen, his way lit by the pale flicker of a candle at the end of the hallway. When he opened the refrigerator door no light came on. He removed a container of milk and poured it into a glass, leaned against the bench and drank while he watched shadows dancing across the room. When he climbed back into bed the black velvet oblivion took him to where demons welcomed him with open arms.

  Danny slept fitfully as the storm moved inland, turning the dawn from inky black to purple and then gray, and then the morning birds competed with the sound of chainsaws that echoed across the valley.

  Danny lay waiting for his mind to empty of dreams that had no connection to the waking day while he watched Nicola sleep. The early morning light washed in through the windows bathing their bodies in pale light. He saw a smile play across her lips and wondered what she was dreaming about. He reached over and brushed a lock of hair from her face, leaned down and kissed her tenderly on the mouth. Nicola stirred and flung an arm across his chest. He gently removed it and slipped out of bed.

  He pulled on his jeans and stepped into the bathroom. When he looked in the mirror, he groaned at the image that looked back. Danny rubbed his hand across his face and scratched the blond stubble of three-day growth. He was not used to having hair on his face. When he inspected the marks on his cheeks, he saw they were no longer red and raw, but covered with a thin line of scab. He debated on whether to shave now or later. He opted for the latter.

  He brushed his teeth and splashed cold water on his face then wandered through the house checking each room for power and damage. While he waited for the coffee to brew, he walked over to the window and looked out. The garden didn’t seem to have suffered any major damage. There were a few fallen branches, and the ground was littered with leaves and debris. He watched a squirrel scamper over a frayed piece of rope where a swing used to be and disappear in the lofty canopy. When he heard the sound of bare feet on the floor boards he smiled.

  Nicola came up behind him, wrapped her arms around his chest and breathed in the familiar smell of his body.

  “Hello, sleepyhead,” he said as he reached behind and ruffled her hair.

  “Morning,” came the breathy reply as she clung to him like a limpet, not wanting to let go.

  When Danny turned around he noted Nicola was wearing one of his T-shirts–but nothing else. He grabbed her backside with both hands, pulled her to him and kissed her, playfully at first. Then suddenly his hands were all over her. He swept her up in his arms and carried her down the hall.

  Danny laid her across the bed, tugged the T-shirt over her head, unzipped his jeans and dropped them to the floor. The aroma of coffee, now forgotten, wafted through the house.

  * * *

  While they sat drinking coffee at the small table overlooking the garden, the buzz of chainsaws echoed across the valley.

  “What time does your flight leave?” Nicola asked.

  “Flights to Australia always leave in the middle of the night. Mine is due to depart at 10:20.”

  “What time will you get in?”

  “We should land around 7:50in the morning the day after tomorrow. Because we cross the International Date Line, we gain a day on the flight over but lose a day on the flight back,” he explained.

  “Fourteen hours is a long flight.”

  Danny shrugged. “A flight is a flight. It’s just a means to an end. It bought me to you, didn’t it?” he said trying to make light of the subject.

  “And now it’s going to take you away.” Tears welled up in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.

  Danny put his cup on the table and knelt on the rug in front of her.

  “Nic, it’s only going to be for a short time. And then I’ll be back.” He wiped her cheeks with his hands.

  “But you might not come back.”

  “I’ll be back if it’s at all possible. But there are some things we can’t always control. Everything in this life is a gamble, Nic. If it’s meant to be, then it’s meant to be.”

  Danny knew that people make choices and even though there are signs along the way to make their path easier, it’s up to them to read the signs and choose the path they take.

  “It’s our actions and the consequences of those actions that decide our fate. It doesn’t always work out the way we want.” Danny had learned that lesson the hard way. If fate steps in and takes hold of the reins, all you can do is endure the best way you can.

  Nicola nodded, she knew he was right.

  Danny patted her on the knee and stood up. He walked over to the window and looked out. “I’m going to miss this place. Why don’t you tell me some more stories about Mill Valley?”

  “And me? Are you going to miss me, Danny?”

  He turned around. “More than you’ll ever know.”

  *****

  “I can tell you some stories about Mill Valley?” I heard Rosie say.

  I stopped typing. “I’m all ears.”

  “Drew once told me the actor, Robin Williams, used to live on Millside Lane, not far from the Dipsea steps.”

  Being a big fan of Robin Williams, I gave her my undivided attention. “That’s just up the road, isn’t it?”

  Rosie nodded. “Apparently, not far from his home was an S & M brothel and people who lived nearby used to see limos parked all along the street at odd hours and wondered if the owners were visiting Robin Williams… or the brothel.”

  “But he doesn’t live here anymore, does he?”

  “No. He lives somewhere in San Francisco. Tiburon, I think. He often does one-man shows at the Throckmorton Theatre, to a packed out house. Drew and I tried several times to get tickets−but always seemed to miss out. Do you remember Grace Slick?”

  “Wasn’t she the singer in those seventies psychedelic bands, Jefferson Airplane and Jefferson Starship?”

  “Yes. Grace used to live on Fern Canyon Road near the ‘open space’ and one day someone from the open space district was welding a gate and set the hillside on fire. Grace’s house was destroyed and when the firemen arrived they found all her gold records were missing. The culprit was eventually found and the records returned but Grace never came back to the area.”

  “How did you know about it?”

  “Drew told me. Don’t forget he’s lived in Marin most of his life.” Rosie shuffled back against the headboard, and added, “I’m sure you’ve heard of David Crosby.”

  I nodded. “From the folk rock band, Crosby, Stills and Nash that was formed in the sixties?

  “And Neil Young joined the group and they became Crosby Stills Nash and Young,” Rosie added, and then said, “Well, apparently David Crosby used to live around here some time in the eighties and one night he’d been drinking and drove into a wall.”

  “A wall?”

  “Yep. Wham, bam, thank-you ma’am. Straight into it. Just like that.” Rosie brushed one hand over the palm of the other in a quick gesture. “Lined the car up, hit the accelerator and slammed straight into the wall. Well duh, of course the wall won. What did he think was going to happen? Harry Potter wasn’t around back then so he couldn’t have gotten the wall confused with Platform Nine and Three Quarters now could he?”

  “Not much chance of that,” I said.

  “He left the scene but the police arrested him a short time later. It wasn’t too hard to find out who owned the car. Not what you would call rocket science!” She
gave a dismissive shrug of the shoulders and we laughed. “This is all in the records, by the way, if anyone wanted to check.”

  “I’m sure there are lots of musicians who have done things they shouldn’t. Hell, who hasn’t?”

  “Such as growing weed,” Rosie said, her blue eyes bright with amusement.

  I looked at her not sure where this side-step was leading.

  “What do you mean, growing weed? You’ve never grown weed–have you?”

  “No. Of course not! But recently the biggest pot-patch in Marin County history, valued at around fifty million dollars, was found growing on land that belonged to the Marin Municipal Water District and National Park Service in Point Reyes.”

  “Apparently it was a pretty sophisticated set-up. However, the thing that bothered the Park Service more than anything else was, and I quote,” she said holding her fingers up in the universal quotation gesture, “‘... the total lack of regard for the natural surroundings, water resources and wildlife…’ Well, hellooo!! If you’re growing fifty million dollars worth of marijuana you’re not going to be too concerned with the flora and fauna.”

  We rolled around on the bed, laughing.

  Finally I got up. “I’ll go have a look in the refrigerator and see what Ross has left for us to eat. Would you like me to make you some Milo?”